Profound realities…
by Piccolosdragon
Summary: The Dark times have fallen, the earth is in ruins and the andriods rain supreme over all. Perhaps those seven balls of miracle workings are the futures only hope, if only they could find them...
1. PROLOGUE

** Profound realities… **

**A/N:**

This story is an AU. It does not run along the EXACT storyline as DBZ, if any of the characters in the story appear to be out of character, then I do apologies.

Piccolo is again the focus in the story, along with some of the other Dragonball Z characters.  
I do not own Dragonball Z it is the sole property of Akira Toriyama, a man with great imagination.  
In this fic, Nameks are not asexual, but they are still able to reproduce asexually due to their not being any female nameks in over 500 years

_**WARNING…**_

_this story contains adult content, language, violence and sexual references._

_**SPECIAL NOTE**_

_Big thanks to Chibi Digi, because of her I was inspired to start writing this fic, it was an idea for a long time, but her help has made it come to words. Thanks Gina!_

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**PROLGUE…**

The area was engulfed in darkness, the area around him was soft and liquefied, he knew what he needed to do once he had emerged, but what to do now… The prison of several layers had no map inside directing him to the nearest exit, a prison of equal roundness and consistency as that of a bowling ball. Stretching the first muscles of his arms out into the bubble of mucus he managing to stretch it far enough to allow his blunt fingers room to wiggle, stretch and retract into balled fists.

Twisting his neck from side to side slowly, he felt the membrane over his skin, how sticky and smooth it felt at the same time, making it harder to penetrate, if he knew what breath was at this point in his life, he would feel like he was drowning in a in a flooded cave with no air pockets.

_"Must break through, must fulfil desired wishes"_ his mind calculated, his undersized brains functions were broadening, his legs kicked forward, tapping lightly against a firm surface, pulling it away he kicked out again and again, each thrust of his for stronger than the last. His keen eardrums took in the first sound of his life, the cracking of the surface from the pounding of his foot against it, gathering strength from his ready body, he pushes his foot forward against the cracked surface, steadily it pushed outward and away, his sole occasionally slipping from the juice coated film.

Lifting his head back against another hard surface, he pushed harder with his feet, and still it only added a slight advancement to his freedom.  
_"Must be free of this prison_" his mind ordered him, steadily he was becoming frustrated, his shoulders bunching up and his body shaking to free itself. His small-balled fists punching put against the slippery walls, with every swing and jab his strength grew, using two legs instead of one to push against the exterior.

And suddenly _"crack" _a load crack filled his ears after utilising both his soft skinned fists to punch against the ceiling, and in that same moment of penetration through the prison wall, another sensation surrounded his exposed hands, the cold. He pulled his fists back inside with urgency, curling closer to the bottom of his prison, he took refuge from the frozen air as it slowly entered through the manually made break.

However, this reaction did not last long, the messages and purpose drilled into his memory surpassed any fears or uncertainties he may have. With strength and determination he leapt upward clumsily from his soft membrane mattress.

The air was cold, so very cold, frost crystallising on the tips of grass, forming dews drops along the lining of leaves and the dirt forest floor wet and unwelcoming, even for the deer that took shelter amongst the trees it was a hateful place to be. At this time of year, they did not dare step away from their wind breaking refuges.

"Crack… CRACK" The sound was the only sound in heard this early morning; it shattered the quiet from its sharpness, the rounded pallid object, lying at the foot of a tree stump began tilting forward.  
"CRACK" the thick shelling acquired a whole from the inside, and from the whole emerged a pair of hands that continued to break through the armour of its incarceration.

The group or deer hovering nearby gave their full attension to the disturbance, the bravest of the stags stepping boldly but cautiously forward on his petite thin ankles and hoofs. Tilting his ears backward with mild confusion and curiosity he took another step forward, jerking his head back when the object tilted forward with another crack, pallid shards of shell falling to the dirt floor.

The rest of the group watched, also curios as the persistence stag with large sharp antlers nasally scrutinised the object. Suddenly the eggshell exploded into dozens of shards that flew several feet, the stag leapt to safety back with his group and continued to watch from a safe distance. Their eyes glued to the scene, the egg titled farther and farther over until it rolled over onto its side.

A Doe took one sep closer, from the shell a shape began emerging, its flesh a dark almost black emerald, pushing itself out from its prison it was if fact on its side, its head pushing along the ground as its arms and legs did the pushing and pulling. Dragging along its arms and back was the pallid green membrane that had enclosed him from the light, when its boy was free from its prison it lay still, with its back to the group of deer that watched the proceedings.

The doe stalked her way toward the shape; only young its curiosity was uncontrollable. It reached the still naked form lowering its nose to sniffed the green membrane, her nostrils contracting every time she inhaled the rich smell of birth. The small forms eyes shut tightly and between his eyelids was more of the light jade mucus that had kept him warm before the relentless elements he had to face now.

He twitched roughly from his still state, catching the doe by surprise she retreated from his side, startling the rest of her group they also retreated hastily away from the scene in an instant without looking back, the thumping of their hoofs decreasing as they moved further away.

Now alone, he had heard the retread of the deer and it brought an evil joy to his darkened heart, slowly he edged out and away from the remainder of his shell, dragging behind him was his afterbirth, detaching itself along the wet dirt ground as he crawled. Sitting his nude form up on the ground, he inhaled the cold air for the first time through his nostrils, bringing his balled fists up to rub both eyes free of the sticky substance.

Cleared of it, his large out of proportion eyes blinked opened, revealing each eye as having a single back spots as his pupils. Short, thin, & long sections of kin penetrating from his forehead glued against his cranium with green fluid.

"(Cough)…." his lips parted, coughing op and out the remainder of his afterbirth from his through and mouth. His little eyes looked up to the semi clear and sunless sky, his eyes become slits of determination.

" G. (Cough)…. Go…ku. (Cough)…." was the first word that left Piccolo's lips…

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_Thank you very much for reading,_


	2. Ill Remeber

**Profound realities…**

**Chapter 1: Ill Remember.**

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"Remember, you cant tell anyone that im here, there are bad people who want to hurt me and they will make you tell them where I am, you promise me you wont tell?" Emmalyne begged to the foot shorter since stood in front of her.  
"I said yes didn't I, stop snapping at my heels girl…just go to whatever you human girls do." Piccolo growled, flicking his hand in a random direction for Emmalyne to go, walking away from her, he went back to his own business, The 6-year-old girl smiled, Piccolo never did like being begged, but she discovered it was the quickest way of getting what she wanted from him. Emmalyne did not listen, she followed Piccolo to watch him training, and training for something she didn't understand at first, something about death, memories, and hate.  
"So who is this Goku? is he a man?" Emmalyne asks, catching up to him she now walked beside him, her fingers knitted together behind her back.

"I told you, he killed my father and he must pay. And of course he is a man!" Piccolo said forming a fist; he slammed it firmly into the open palm of his other hand.

Emmalyne frowned, why did he always have to say he wanted to make everyone pay, though his reason for wanting, needing to kill Goku were respectable.  
"Cant he just say he was sorry, so you don't have to kill him." She suggested, stopping when Piccolo did as he prepared to train.

The young 3-foot namekian, dressed in his navy blue surcoat, with his father demon symbol revealed in the centre of his chest.  
" Oh he will be sorry, but I don't want him to say it, I want to make him show it with the blood that he spills" Piccolo pledged, his eyes becoming sadistic as he stared down at his open palms.  
Watching as in the centre of them small sparks of lightning formed and ignited.  
"That's horrible, why do you want to hurt him, maybe he isn't…"she tried to explain, but halted her words when she was her friend piccolos evil stare begin turning toward her.  
"Isn't all bad?" he concluded her sentence, staring blankly toward her with his large cream tinted eyes.  
"… Yes" she answered cautiously, her bare feet planted into the ground, she felt frozen in place, afraid that walking away would anger him.  
"Then you're the fool, go ahead and believe that he isn't all bad I remember what he did to my father, its like he had done it to me… so I have more reason for paying him back" Piccolo pledged, the pitch in his voice rising with every syllable, pushing his point across.  
"Your becoming really silly Piccolo, I don't understand why you have to be so horrible, cant you try t be nice for once, say something nice?" Emmalyne said to him, the same sensation tat you felt when you were about to cry rose in her throat, but tears would not come, at least not yet. Piccolo did not say anything as Emmalyne walked away, shaking her head shamefully for her friend's hateful nature, his ears heads heard as her walls broke down, and her breath hiccuped with tears.

He didn't feel like going after her this time, last time he followed her to see why she shook her head in such a way he became angry, her thinking of him as stupid was not something he was inclined to take lying down. To him, she was lucky that he found her tolerable, unlike all the other children that he had fallen into groups with, on the outskirts of the cities and towns that he travelled meeting many and not staying long.

Emmalyne left her group of companions to be friends with him, that he felt he had to repay, he had the ambition to kill Goku yes, but not to kill everyone else that he came across on the way. Shaking off the thought he returned to his previous engagement, training, he had minimal years to prepare for the day that his minds ambition would be complete. Weeks later, he and Emmalyne had began speaking again, so she would not run off and sob again he didn't say a word about Goku, but that didn't stop him thinking of it, nothing could ever stop that.

It was in the middle of winter, the snows were due at any time now, either way his training never hibernated until spring, he worked harder each day, perfecting his ability to fly and to his most loved technique that he had almost perfected, it had taken weeks but here he was.  
"SPECIAL BEAM CANNON. FIRE!" his voice echoed, pulling his illuminated fingertips away from between his antennas swiftly pointed at a random tree. Emmalyne watched from a few yards away in safety, she liked to watch him, but never come to close in the fear of being struck, Piccolo had missed his target sone to many times for her likening.

Her knees pulled up firmly against her rib cage, she felt ashamed that she did not have any clothing besides the torn t-shirt and insect bitten tracksuit pants.  
"Cold again?" he inquired with a mild attitude, waddling his short sounded body over toward her, his frowning completion unchanging and showing no great sympathy  
"Yes, its never warm when you have so little to dress in" she said, rubbing her chin against her kneecaps, a vain effort to get warmer her cold tingling chin.

With

a roll of his observant gaze Piccolo held out his opened palm toward her, the centre opting a sparkling glow that felt warm against his skin, the glow spread across and up his fingertips, before leaping out and quickly engulfing the sound girl in its sparkle.

Emmalyne shuttered and shifted on the ground, the glow felt warm around her, as though she were standing before a flickered fire with high flames.  
"Keep still, it wont consume you ignorant girl" Piccolo exclaimed, finding the shifting and twitching of Emmalyne as the glow surrounded her particularly irritating.  
"Its beautiful isn't it" She exclaimed, rubbing the sleeve of her newly created sweated against her chapped pink cheek, closing her eyes as enjoyed the comfort of the fabric against her skin.  
"That, beautiful?" a young girl commented, sitting beside Emmalyne in her own set of raggedly clothing, her black hair chin length with a split, unmanaged cut.  
"Yes!" Emmalyne snapped back, raising her cheek up from the sleeve to glare at her neighbour.  
"Its gross, I find better stuff than that in the mayors dumpster, I wouldn't steel it from you if I were stark naked" the black haired girl remarked, standing up and storming off in her bare feet down the street of one of the cities back roads.

There was no guarantee that you would be seen again after going down any road into the city, whether if your caught by the law or privately executed by the ones you steel from. Alternatively, slaughtered by your fellow street dwellers for what little you had, faith in staying was worthless.

Emmalyne did not take Jennifer's words to heart, she loved the gift because it was given to her with the his heart, Piccolo cared whether or not she was cold, any other street child would more than likely have taken what they could and run off with it. Leaving Emmalyne with nothing, no, the sweaters was not a perfect fit, one sleeve longer than the other and the collar hung down loosely, Piccolo said it was his third attempt at making another's clothing besides his own, practise he said was needed.

From the living trees he had watched everything, heard everything, amazed that this girl saw him in such a trusting and appreciative manner, unlike the rest, she would need to be repaid; it was only noble, something that Piccolo kept close to his heart was his nobility.

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Remember don't tell anyone…. anyone…. anyone…. anyone….

Thankyou all for reading


	3. Failure

** Profound realities… **

**Chapter 2: Failure.**

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"Do you live here on your own?" The woman in a beige suit and short black hair asked gentle, kneeling down on her ankles before Piccolo, his ears picking up the ticking from her sparkling silver wristwatch, it was irritating.  
"Of course I don't, but I look after my own skin!" He said to her, his lips frowning up to the woman who was a foot away from him.

She nodded passively, shuffling a step closer to him, she showed a face of concern, and her hand came down onto the ground to support her from tipping over.  
"I see, are there any youngsters like yourself that live in the area?" She continued her inquiries, Piccolo was annoyed y this woman sudden appearance, she had come all of a sudden in a van with a group of 3 men who were also dressed in suits, they now stood around the van watching.  
"Maybe…" He said with suspicion, lifting an eyebrow at the woman with the nametag entitled _Samantha_.  
"Ok.. Well I really need your help, we are looking for a little girl, she is in great danger if we don't find her soon" she said standing back up, her face showing concern.

Piccolo relaxed his lifted eyebrow ridge, his tubby little body relaxed, before going on he folded his arms across his chest, still trying to not let the ticking of the woman's watch get to him.  
"What is her name?" Piccolo asked, is tone serious and direct. The woman smiled, her wide mouth revealing a perfect set of pearl teeth.  
"Her name in Emma, she has been lost for several months and needs help, we are here to help her. Do you know this little girl?" she pledges, them she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out an old worm photo, holding it up in front of Piccolo.  
He scrutinised it, leaning his body forward his eyes become slits, the girl in the photo was only a baby, she had dark eyes and golden curls on top of her head, wearing a small white dress with pink ribbon lining the skirt, he knew the baby was Emmalyne.

Walking up ahead, he led the way for the group of well dressed and concerned people through the thick shrubbery, headed toward the small ruins. Piccolo stepped out of the shrubbery; he could see in the distance several young children playing alone, but not whom he was seeking. His ears listened as two of the people that were following close behind also stepped out of the shrubbery. Then something he did not expect.

The sound of their van was approaching, it came crashing through the undergrowth and came to a stop, Piccolo stepped back several steps confused, what was going on.  
"Quick over there, find out which one she is." The well dressed woman ordered her associates, several of headed off toward the children, it was confusion to Piccolo as he watched many children running in fear, screaming to be left alone by men.

Amongst the fuzz and fury of running bodies, he spotted Emmalyne emerge from one of the ruins, she stood on the porch and watched the confusion, she herself becoming frightened and running away from the house.  
"Emma!" Piccolo heard the woman beside him call out, instantly Emmalyne stopped, and turned toward them, she looked at the woman for a moment wit the same fear, then her eyes landed on Piccolo. e watches as she shook her head in denial, he did not understand why she and all the others were all afraid, they were the same race as the humans, and these human in particular were there to help.

A man suddenly scooped up Emmalyne in his arms, the young girl kicking and screaming to be released as another man also came to help the first restrain her, This didn't seem normal to Piccolo, he stepped forward to demand an answer."Why are they afraid of you?" he asked the woman angrily. She did not even look at him; instead, she opened the slide door of the Van as the men carried Emmalyne and two other girls they had caught toward it. Piccolo continued to watch; several feet from the van slide door and the men carrying Emmalyne as she continued kicking and screaming.  
"They want to help you, stop screaming girl." Piccolo bantered at Emmalyne as passed him by, her face red and her eyes blood shot from crying.  
"How could you tell them, how could you tell them where we were!"? She yelled at him, her voice hoarse from all her screams.

Piccolo stepped away as more men came carrying other orphans, his confusion even deeper now. Ignored the first time he decided not to ask the woman any question, he instead turned to one of the men.  
"Why are they afraid, why are they screaming for you to leave them alone?" he demanded form the man, his fists balled tightly, ehe man turned to him.  
"They are worthless orphans, they belong in an home and not littering our streets… " He man answered abruptly, slamming the van doors shut, instantly the girls inside planted themselves against the back windows, Piccolo looked up to see Emmalyne staring at him with teary eyes, he could hear her screaming still…  
"Why did you tell them!"..  
Ignoring him the men and well-dressed woman drove off in the pallid coloured Van, and then the reality sunk in for Piccolo.

_"Human bastards."_ He uttered internally, his fists baling further until the blood began draining, he had been fooled, deceived, they were the ones that Emmalyne told him about, the ones that wanted to take them away for the wrong reasons.  
Moreover, he led them right to her and the others.  
"I swear, I swear a blood oath that humans will be my vengeance… first your blood Goku will stain my hands, then humanities!" he cried out through his parted lips, his lush hydrated skin stretching until it tore, bleeding straight through the skin and running down onto his neck and chest.

Energy began gathering around his body, spiralling around his robe concealed feet tenderly at first and then becoming more heated, his screams of anger increased until the veins popped out of his skull. The ground shaking as all sounds were drown out by the earth shattering beneath his feet…

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**THANKYOU FOR READING**


	4. Prelude to the past…

** Profound realities… **

**Chapter 2: Prelude to the past…**

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A young man steps out of the shadows, his feet downed with heavy black boots, his hands slipped deep into his dark blue jacket pockets, he stopped focusing his eyes upon us.  
"You didn't see what we went through then, but you will now, I will tell you briefly how it began. As my late aunt had told me," he explains, his crystal topaz eyes glazed over and drying from the lack of blinking.  
"My name is Trunks, I'm here to tell how I came to be where I am now", he says, his voice deep and serious as though there were a funeral in procession.  
" Years ago, on a small island outside of south city something happened, something appeared and from then on nothing was ever the same again." He tells us the audience, bowing his head slightly letting his hair fall around his cheekbones.

"Two beings, with the strength that had never been witnessed before by the earths protectors had been born, pure Evil, with nothing but hatred and revenge in their iced eyes and minds, we were never warned about them, we had to improvise" he hissed, throwing his head back tossing his bangs away from his eyes.  
"It would have been easier to find a solution to defeat them if Goku had survived" he said with regret and some anger in his tone. Looking up toward the sky for a moment, breathing in a short breath he turns toward us and starts pacing in our direction  
"The heart virus which is still incurable, took the life of Goku Son leaving the rest of us alone to fight this new threat… I myself was only a baby when this happened, I don't remember any of it" Trunks confirms, tilting his eyes toward the ground passing below his feet, then swiftly upturning back toward us.  
"But that doesn't mean I wouldn't suffer the consequences", he said with slitted eyes, stopping with his feet slightly apart he licked his dry lips.  
"The first to fight way my father, Vegeta, the prince of sayajins, he was defeated, next came Krillin who was killed in more than half the time, after that Yumcha, Tien and Chouzu tried to go at it together, they also failed. Piccolo fought a brave battle but didn't come out of it with any victory, he was lucky though, we found him later on clinging to life in the rubble"

Trunks said, taking in a breath of clean air to continue, staring deeply toward us with his cold meaningful eyes, each pupil had a story to tell."After that the rest of us hid away until we could find a way to defeat them, my young mother, Bulma was in the lab preparing a device that she believe could deactivate these 'demons', I was with Chichi, Gohans mother when it happened." He stops and composes himself, its evident that he would not be calm if he did not take this small breather.  
"They came to during the night, and that even number came in and destroyed everything, she slaughtered my mother and left her hanging from the ceiling by her hair for us to find days later, after the rats had gotten to her." Trunks cringe through his teeth with constraint, his fists constricting in the bottom of his pockets, his eyes closing together tightly until his developed crows feet.  
"If there was a god why would he allow this to happened, I asked myself that so many times. But there is no answer to that in words, at least not those I can hear" he says more calmly, parting his eye.  
"And now I don't ask myself that anymore, I just thank him that I am here…"  
" I can't say anything else, the rest needs to be seen to be believed "He says, looking up and back toward the way he came.  
"Ill see you at the end as I have at the beginning, this is not just my stories, its the story of many…" he says, as small smile appearing on the face of a young man with hardened heart, twisting his body around we hear his boots scraping along the gravel ground.  
" This roads a long one, so don't say I didn't warn you" he says as a final note, with his back to us his hands still deep in his pockets, he paces casually away toward the sun, his boots crushing upon the gravel as he walks further away.

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His left hand raising up out of his pockets, he gives a single wave to us before continuing on his leave.  
_"Why…Piccolo, why did you tell them!…"_ a voice eccoed, its sounds moving furthur and fuirthur away. He could hear his name being called by the young voice in his mind and wanted to go toward it, but then realised the harsh reality of his fantasy.  
"Piccolo.. Did you want a blanket or not!" Chichi asked again, nudging a dark blue folded blanket into Piccolo's shoulder, waiting for the namek to acknowledge her question.

Piccolos eyes parted slowly, he would never allow himself to arrear surprised or caught off guard, especially not by her and her critical backstabbing manner.  
He reached out taking the neatly folded fabric from her and watching as she briskly walked away from him away. Piccolo made all the blankets for the group every few weeks and especially on the cold nights, the sun hadn't warmed trhe earth to a tolerable temperature in months, the summers had become unwelcome snowless winters.  
"The dreams have affected you again my son, you do poor work of hiding it" a voice carried from the opposite side of the diminutive fire, its flickers of sparks floating up a few inches above the flames before vanishing with the breeze, Piccolo shuffles his shoulders and unfolded the blanked.  
"I didn't realise you still kept tabs on me old man, don't make me warn you again" the warrior responded, drapping the thick navy fabric over his extended should pads and around over his ears, Kami watched him tilting his elderly head from side to side and then smirked.

"You cant take that action and you know it, I am needed at this time in the search so you will have to accept my presents." Kami told him frankly, seated with his back rested against the stone wall of a ruined house. His smirk broadening into a full smile when Piccolo didn't answer back  
"Fuck you." Piccolo whispered aloud, folding his arms against his chest with his hands concealed in his armpits. The guardian scraped the bottom tip of his staff into the small fire to keep it alit, igroning Piccolo, they would be the only ones who didn't sleep being namek's.  
"That language isn't necessary Piccolo, you know that." A calm voice spoek up from beside Kami against the other concrete wall of the house.

Piccolo eyed them with his head consistently in its bowed position, his features almost black apart from the white of his eyes. Kami neglected to turn his head to respond to Gohan standing up for him, the young man needed to be alone at this time.  
Piccolo didn't add any comments either, instead watching Gohans profile with the same consern as a father would have for his son, silent and no longer the young boy who held his true fathers persona of happiness and optimism.  
Goku the one and only who gave so much hope and always made it all better in the end.  
Gohans sat lotus style with his loose fists resting in his lap, a faint glowing and flashing or colour illuminated his face like flames from a fire; only this light was generated by something else that was much more speacial.

Between his knees rested three dragonballs, the seven, one star and his most prized of all the four ballpassed down to him by his fathers father.  
"Gohan honey, aren't you cold?" Chichi asked comeign to stand beside him, nuzzling the hem of her purple blanked closed to her neck and face to ban the frost and burn of the cold against her skin, Gokhan looked so trans like and drugge at times like this.  
His head lifted and slowly turned to look at his mother, his face o longer the smooth round cheeks of youth and innocents , now it was scared with a horrific synbol and a reminder to Chichi of one of Gohans last battles against the twins of destruction.

Android 17 was the fiercely cruel one who devolped the strategies and ideas, 18 manically enjoyed watching then being applied and obliged on that day to hold Gohan down against the ground whilst her twin burned the number.. '17'.. into Gohans right cheek without remorse, heargrign as his screams carried through the burned city and across the trees into the winderness.  
"Yeah mom.. Thanks" he responded with grace, when away from battle and training young Trunks, he tried to keep some of his kindness alive.

It had been close to 7 years, 7 years of searching for a needle in a hayfield, only 3 of the 7 dragoballs have been found, gohan was determined to keep going and not give in on the search, Piccolo meanwhile stayed patient with Kami, because without Kami all hope was lost.  
Sensing her son's troubles, Chichi slid down onto her buttocks beside her only son, her hands hugging her knees close to her chest.  
"Are you alright, you have me worried honey, all this silence that you show is starting to get to me" She told him, her hand reaching up to stroke the hairs on his head.

Pulling away she wrapped half of her large blanket around his shoulders, looking down she could see the three dragonballs clearly in his lap.  
"Please Gohan, don't go crazy on us and go off on your own again, im almost died the last time" she pleaded, her lips frowning.  
Gohans eyes closed shut from watching the dragonballs, sometimes he could have sworn that he was still a young boy, Chichis way of worrying for him hadn't changed since then, he new it was one of the only things that kept him sane.  
"I wont, I wont leave again without the rest of you…I promise" he said with honesty, reopening his eyes to focus upon the balls again, their glowing light was warming to the heart, but not so for the body. He was thankful his mother shared her blanket with him.

As they tried to find their sleep, someone else had just awoken from his, ruffling beneath his red and blue-stripped blanket Trunks sat up rubbing an eye with his fist, his pillow ruffled hair standing on end.  
"Aren't you all asleep yet…its what…2 am or something?" he grumbled, frowning at he looked at his scratched watch, a watch he had since he was 3 years of age, it still had its original teal wristbands and clear plastic watch face.  
"I warned you, napping during the day wouldn't help but did you listen to me… no" Piccolo snitched, very unlike himself.  
Trunks rolled his eyes back at his mentor then pulled his knees up to his chest, gazing over to the warm crackling fire he started falling into a daydream, mesmerised by the dancing flamed and sparks.

Before his opened eyes appeared android 18, a beautiful and deadly creature that on many occasion had nearly destroyed him and the ones he loved, her stone cold expression smiling back and him with a length of her blond hair falling over her left eye.  
"You'll be tired tomorrow if you don't get some sleep now" Chichi said to him over her shoulder, waking him from his daydream.  
"But im bored Chichi, can I grab something to eat at least?" he asked, leaning back with his hands to support his weight.  
Chichi pressed her lips together.  
"Fine, there are crackers in the nap sack beside you, don't overdo It." she reminded him; the last thing she wanted was to deal with was a teenager having stomach cramps.  
"Chew **_quietly_**!" Piccolo reminded with a snarl, his eyelids firmly closed together.  
Trunks leaned over burrowing his hand into the velvety knapsack, pulling out 3 square water crackers, crossing his legs beneath his blanket he tried to quietly nibble them down.

As he did his clear blue eyes looked up to the dark clear sky, one thing that hadn't changed was the stars and the moon, there was no moon tonight but the stars were plenty.  
In these instances he dreamed up things he desired most, things like a skateboard, bike and the latest video games, but most of all he wished for his mothers presents, even if it were only in his dreams.

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**Thanks for reading…**


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